Before and Behind
by Lizard Pie
Summary: A series of Prussia's progress through his time as East Germany, from the division to reunification and beyond.


Based on the food provided and the heavy accents of their guards, the jail was mainly run by the Americans. And that was just fine, really, even preferable. They had rules for handling prisoners which were rather humane in comparison to some within the allies; and, at the least, the food was edible.

The Americans had stuck the two halves of Germany together in a cell, not tied up in any way. Prussia had scoffed at the arrogance against him, but both brothers knew that their enemies were confident (rightfully, unfortunately) that their enemies had no fight left within them. Great restraint was unnecessary; and America rarely went to extra effort if he didn't feel he absolutely had to.

They were left in a stone cell for days as the allies argued about what exactly they were supposed to do with their defeated enemies. In other situations, prisoners might have been provided with books to at least keep themselves docile and occupied. No such courtesy was provided to Prussia and Germany; which left their only entertainment to be lying on the stone floor and watching out the high-placed window at the sky; perhaps talking, perhaps not.

Normally so much wasted time would have driven them both mad, but in this case it was perfectly alright. The both were badly injured, and they didn't really have the energy to do much else. It wasn't like they would be sitting still for much longer, though.

They weren't blatantly told anything, it was just feelings and tiny whispers which would come to them. The allies, who had come innumerable times and seemed to section them off like animals for the slaughter, had not been around all day. Whatever they'd been looking for seemed to have been settled already, and they were strictly in litigation. Nothing definite drifted into the prison, but some themes were constant. Prussia was going to be dissolved, and Germany would be split. Neither quite knew what that meant, and they'd taken most of the day to contemplate it in silence.

When Prussia finally spoke, it had been a sharp disturbance if only because of how long it had been without a sound between them.

"I'm invincible, I guess."

Germany turned his head from the window a bit in acknowledgement.

"They couldn't defeat me with fair combat," Prussia said. "They're hiding behind paperwork." He laughed, but the sound was bitter. "Tears are welling up, it's so fucking pathetic."

"Ironic," Germany added.

"Serious?" Prussia asked. "I could have told you that paperwork would be the death of me. All that you tried to make me do almost did like a million times."

He laughed, they laughed, but it was cracked and unsure.

"What happens to dissolved countries?" Germany asked.

"I don't know," Prussia said. "It's your retarded century that does shit like this. We just kicked ass."

Germany frowned a bit at the moon. They both were thinking of Rome, and of Germania, if only because they were the closest thing possible to relate to. But both had died in war and time, there hadn't been someone handled with papers instead of swords before.

Both had wondered about the afterlife of countries, neither one more fervently than Prussia. Not that he was going to worry his brother with such thoughts.

"I guess I just don't belong here anymore," Prussia admitted finally, his voice dull.

"Don't say that."

"It's true," Prussia said. "I'm too old fashioned. You're better at all this talking shit that they want to do these days." He smiled just slightly. "That's why you'll definitely survive."

Germany blinked at the new tone in his brother. "What are you…?"

It was mostly do to the fact that Prussia's skin was pale enough to almost glow in the moonlight that let Germany see the smirk well enough to be unsettled. It wasn't that he was smiling and speaking of his mortality; Prussia had done that before. It was that this smirk was that of a weaker man; somehow not having anything to do with the tears pouring down his brother's face.

"I'm a segue; you're what we were supposed to end up as." Prussia looked over without turning his head. "So, if they need a pound of flesh…"

"Stop talking like you're going to die."

"Maybe I won't," Prussia shrugged. "I've been hearing whispers that if I survive dissolving I head over with Russia. And you know what they say about him." He looked over. "When did I raise you to be so scared?"

"You're the one crying."

Prussia laughed, but it was a truer one this time. "How can I help it when all the countries around me have turned into paper-pushing sissies?" He looked over. "And that's _exactly_ why you're going to rule them."

This kind of talk was controversial, and probably deadly, at this point in time; but in the face of probable execution Germany couldn't really find the energy to hush his brother.

"You talk like we're not sitting in a jail cell…"

"It's because we're in an 'enlightened age' or some shit," Prussia cut him off, his fingers making quotations as if the dripping sarcasm in his voice wasn't sufficient. "We tried the violent strategy, and since it didn't work we need to change that."

The smirk grew. "Germanics are tough. We're smart, and we survive because we can adapt; you just have to do it now." Prussia turned onto his side. He spoke in excited, hushed tones even though he well knew that the guards couldn't understand coarse German coming from his mouth. Or, for that matter, the more refined version from his younger brother.

"You're getting a new boss, and you're down right now. Use the confusion to your advantage and watch people, economies, _every_thing. And then, when you get your chance…" He grinned broadly, with more than a little sadistic glee. "You make your move."

"If I invade…"

"That's land; fuck land," Prussia said fiercely. "I told you shit's different. Everything is money and diplomatic influence these days. If you're on top of that, you can move the world. I want you to do that."

Prussia rolled onto his back and returned to watching the window. "Not immediately, of course. But be paying attention and making 'friends'." Again, his fingers indicated what his voice was already very capable of.

A corner of Germany's mouth pulled up slightly. "I think you finally lost your mind."

"Always possible."

The brothers returned their normal routine of watching the moon slowly fade in the orange tones of sunrise. Again, it was Prussia who broke the moratorium; his quiet voice piercing against the quiet around them.

"You'll be fine," Prussia told him. "Much as I… hate to admit it; you're half as awesome as I am. That means everything will work out for you in the end."

"Only half?"

"Half is pretty damn good," Prussia told him and gave a nod of affirmation. "Most don't even make a quarter."

Germany sighed and shook his head in false disbelief. It wasn't the right time, he decided, to be humored. "Take care of yourself," Germany told him. "Whatever happens."

"You too."

In a few hours, they'd dressed up and placed in front of the allies. All hesitation that had existed the night before in the elder would be replaced with the trademarked smirk for his enemies. Even when he was stripped of rank and sent with Ivan, it wouldn't waver.

Prussia would wink at his brother, and mouth "Auf Wiederhören" as he was shackled and escorted off. Germany, as he knew he was meant to, would stay just as strong as the remaining allies used their fingers to show exactly which part of him would belong to who.

Until then, they awaited their fate without another word. There was nothing left to say.


End file.
